


The TiME He Wants to Take Back

by Worldlyshuku



Series: All the TiME in the World [2]
Category: Supernatural, TiMER (2009)
Genre: Accountant Castiel, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - TiMER Fusion, F/M, First Meetings, Human Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean, POV Dean Winchester, POV Third Person Limited, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5204201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worldlyshuku/pseuds/Worldlyshuku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's never believed in these TiMERs, but he enjoys taking advantage of their potential by hooking up without the pretense of committing to a serious relationship.  One <i>very</i> drunken night, he follows a man home, a man named Castiel with a blank TiMER, two things he's never been interested in before – someone who is still waiting for their TiMER to count down and a man.<br/>He tries to forget the night, and meets the beautiful Lisa whom he grows to love.  Fate screws that up though, and Dean has run out of time.  He'll meet his match far sooner than he had expected.</p><p>Concept taken from the movie, TiMER, where a piece of technology is implanted on the wrist to count down to the day you'll make eye contact with your soulmate.  When two soulmates meet, the TiMERs chime.  If someone's TiMER isn't counting down, it means that their soulmate does not have one yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The TiME He Wants to Take Back

**Author's Note:**

> Differing POV of existing story, The TiME They Met, so a lot will be rehash, but with a little more introspection from Dean. (see part 1 of "All the TiME in the World" series) They can be read in either order. Can't believe this ended up being twice as long as Castiel's POV. Dean's a little long-winded since I filled in some blanks with Lisa and getting a TiMER.
> 
> (Copy-pasted from The TiME They Met) I really enjoy the movie TiMER (it's on Netflix, if you want to check it out), and it touches on some interesting aspects of knowingly meeting your soulmate. I stole some TiMER aspects directly from the movie, so don't judge me too much... If something doesn't make sense though, let me know, and I can expand on it if need be. Be sure to see the Summary for minor details.

* * *

Dean's eyes snapped open to the sound of an alarm, his groggy mind supplying him first with the fact that his alarm was normally set to the radio and not some nagging incessant beeps. Second, this was not his bed. He sat up suddenly, piecing together that he was not in his room, and he was naked. His brain had to repeat that as he shifted his legs under the plush comforter. He was naked. He didn't sleep naked.

Seconds later, he looked towards the blaring alarm clock and its bright green glow that said six o'clock and saw the head and arm of someone next to him peeking out from under the blankets. _No friggin' way._ Dean shook his head and pushed himself towards the edge of the bed, a dread filling him that the other bed occupant was _not_ a woman.

“Where? Wha- Ah, fuck!” This could not be happening. No way.

Dean frantically reached for his pants on the ground near the bed, toppling over the edge and landing hard on his hip. He grunted and folded himself over to grab the jeans and his shirt not far away before standing up straight and using the wad of clothes to cover his manbits. “I, uh. I should go,” Dean said, quickly putting on his jeans until he caught sight of the man in the bed peering over at him. He turned around, trying to shove his pants up over his ass before the other guy could see anything more.

Dean was still trying to recall what had happened last night, but the blossoming headache hinted that too much alcohol had been involved. The distant memory of deep moans filtered through the fog, and there was no doubt that he had had sex with a man. He couldn't fathom what would possess him to do such a thing; he had been drunk plenty of times before, but he hadn't ever gone home with another man before. _At least I topped?_ he tried to assure himself after clenching his buttocks and not feeling any sort of strange discomfort. Dean got one sleeve of his flannel shirt on before he opened the bedroom door to flee and to put all of this behind him.

“Hey!” the guy still in bed shouted, and Dean froze in the doorway. “Bolting in the morning is fine with me, but at least have some coffee or breakfast before you run off. Don't be inconsiderate.”

When Dean slipped into his other sleeve, he looked over his shoulder at the bed. The room was dark, but in the green glow of the clock, Dean could see the thin but muscled form of the man's arms and chest. _What the Hell was I thinking?_

“Dean, right?” the other man asked.

Dean nodded and then suddenly shook his head. “I'm sorry. This isn't... I...” _I am_ not _into guys._ Dean clenched his jaw and peered out into the hallway. “What ever happened last night, didn't. Forget it, okay?” At the other man's insistence, Dean didn't take off, but he didn't waver from his spot hovering at the bedroom door. He could hear the man open a drawer and then the rustling of the comforter. The Sun was starting to come up as its light filtered in through the window. Dean took in a deep breath, avoiding looking over at the bed again, staring into the bathroom across from him.

“Are you worried about your TiMER?” the man asked. “That you haven't zeroed out yet?”

Dean's eyes drifted to his right wrist at the strip of metal counting down from about 342 days stuck to his skin. This thing was a load of crock. He didn't say anything and just went back to staring ahead. _How can I explain my issue without offending the guy?_

The other man sighed. “I don't usually take people with TiMERs back to my place, but alcohol... I apologize if I upset you. You still have a year before you find your One, right? They'll still be there for you regardless of the number of people you've slept with. Please, don't feel guilty about that.”

Dean shook his head. “That's not the problem. I can't cheat on someone I've never met.” He couldn't cheat on someone especially if he didn't believe in these TiMERs. They were a joke – something a company made to profit off of the hopeless romantics. They weren't meant for a man like Dean. _As if someone could ever love me._ “Look, what was your name again?”

“Castiel.”

“Ah, right. I... called you Cas,” Dean said, remembering buying a drink for the dark-haired man with the most amazingly blue eyes he had ever seen. They had made out in a cab and had laughed like damn teenagers at the menacing look the cabbie kept shooting them in the rear-view mirror. “I just realized that I came here in a cab, so my Baby is still at the bar. I'm going to call a cab to come pick me up and wait outside.”

The man-named-Castiel finally pushed away from the bed and walked over to his closet. “Ouch. Was last night that terrible?”

Even through the headache that was coming and going, Dean picked up a memory of Cas's hands holding him down at the hips as Cas's mouth enveloped him in a wet heat that... that had not been terrible... Dean groaned and rubbed his hand down the length of his face. “Ugh, I just. I'm not... please don't make this more awkward for me. Can I just go?”

Castiel's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don't forget your underwear,” Castiel scoffed, and Dean caught him motioning to the other side of the room where his boxers lay.

Dean shuffled over to grab the underwear that he had forgotten about in his haste to get the fuck out of there. This was just a nightmare. He had to wake up soon. Back again at the door, he started to open his mouth to apologize, but closed it with a frown. The other man seemed mad, and Dean needed to leave.

Castiel walked stiffly behind Dean down the hallway until they reached the front door, and he opened it to the smooth light of the early morning. When he turned around for a final good-bye, Castiel was leaning against the door frame, dark hair tousled and eyes blazing. Dean wanted to know _why_ he had slept with this man, why he followed him home, why he had made out with him, why had he been attracted in the first place. It made no sense to him. Looking at Castiel in the light, it was clear that Dean wouldn't have mistaken him for a woman. He was still having trouble remembering everything about last night, but he had known exactly what he had been getting into at the time.

“Some words of advice,” Castiel said, a registered note of irritation in his voice, “I hope you're more considerate for your soulmate when you find her next year. As far as soulmates go, she'll overlook this night of gay passion even if you tell her about your personal transgression.”

 _Fuck. I offended him._ Dean chuckled nervously, fishing his phone out of his front pocket, and he realized that he still had his boxers in his hand, and he tried to wad them up into the opposite pocket with little success. “I, uh, I guess.” Dean looked down at the ground at the welcome mat in front of the door, wondering if he could say something to make Castiel feel less bad about the situation. “You know, funny you should mention that,” he chuckled again, covering his crooked smile with his finger, “I don't know if I'll ever meet her.”

Castiel tilted his head and squinted at Dean. “But your TiMER-”

“Is fake,” Dean admitted, peeling the little metal strip off of his wrist. “A friend of mine found them online.” Not sure he could call Fergus a _friend_ , but the man had some wicked ideas.

Castiel stared at his naked wrist and then at the curved metal pinched in Dean's other hand. “Fake? Why on Earth would you want to have a _fake_ TiMER?” he asked.

“It's...” Dean turned on his phone and scratched at the back of his neck with his opposite hand. It wasn't really that complicated to explain, but people always got so sensitive when it came to TiMERs and what they represented. He went for a half-truth. “I don't really believe in it, and it's easier to, you know... if I don't have the pressure of some chick wanting me to get one.”

“It's easier to what?” Castiel blinked, and then set Dean with a hard gaze. “You trick people into sleeping with you because there's no, what? No possibility of it being more than a one-night stand? They'll know that there's no possible future with you because neither of you have reached the final countdown?” Castiel shook his head hard, and then he held out his own wrist. “I've had this thing set on _nothing_ for ten years, but that doesn't deter me from having a good time while looking for love. I am capable of both. Don't mock those of us that believe in the system just so that you can get your rocks off.”

“Women,” Dean murmured.

“What?”

Dean cleared his throat and answered more clearly, “Women. I don't... not _people_. Just women. Last night shouldn't have-”

Castiel didn't let him finish as he slammed the door in his face. Last night shouldn't have happened.

* * *

For the next few weeks, Dean avoided bars at all cost. He had wanted to give up alcohol, too, but he had at least made the resolution to not get drunk, which meant bringing a trusted buddy that could keep an eye on him. His younger brother, Sam, was both delighted and slightly annoyed to be getting to spend so much extra time with him suddenly.

He never put on that fake TiMER again.

Dean didn't dare tell anyone about his night with Castiel. While he had wanted to forget about it and to put it behind him, Dean was having a hard time ignoring it. He caught himself staring at every dark-haired man that crossed his path, searching for a hint of blue eyes. On the very few occasions that he had found them, he had immediately looked away and pretended to be engrossed in whatever object was in front of him at the time.

He could focus his mind on other tasks easily enough when he found himself wandering to the events of that night, but the dreams were inescapable when they appeared. It was sometimes a tangle of sweaty limbs or firm hands or an intoxicating mouth, but it was always the bright blue eyes that gave him away. They always startled Dean in his dreams, sometimes enough to wake him up, but usually the heated dream played on, and Dean stopped counting the number of times he woke up to a crusty mess in his boxers. He hadn't had to deal with that sort of crap since high school. He was a grown man, and the sudden onslaught of wet dreams was, frankly, irritating to him.

And then, he met Lisa Braeden. Long brown hair and brown eyes with soft olive skin. No TiMER. He couldn't say it was love at first sight, but she was a breath of fresh air for his conflicted state. She was beautiful, and Dean enjoyed the connection he had with her – enough to commit to a monogamous relationship despite his usual 'hit it and quit it' routine. He worried at the beginning if he was just doing it to avoid running into _him_ again, but he was pleased to find that he really did care for Lisa.

His family loved her, and if his mother had still been alive, she would have loved Lisa, too. It was the final straw he needed to convince himself that he loved her. Things were great – for about four months, which was still longer than any other relationship he had ever started. He couldn't remember which of them subtly brought up plans for a future – moving in together, marriage, kids... He genuinely wanted these things with Lisa.

But then she had asked about TiMERs, and it threw a wrench in their forward progress. She admitted that she'd just been waiting for the right guy. Getting them together would be better than wedding rings. Lisa loved him, and finding someone to love him regardless of those TiMERs was sort of the point. He was afraid to jinx it, but he wanted to see her happy, too.

* * *

Dean sat back in the lounge chair at the TiMER center holding out his wrist, willing them to just get it over with, but he had to read through agreements and contracts, listen to warnings and possible side effects.

The attendant with the strangest-looking-gun he'd ever seen gave him a warm smile. “But it'll all be worth it to find your One. Since Lisa doesn't have one yet, your TiMER might be blank. When she gets hers, and you're her match, then both of your TiMERs will show all zeroes and will chime when you make eye-contact.”

Lisa waited in a chair nearby and wiggled excitedly in her seat.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said impatiently. “Just do it, please.”

The woman nodded and placed the end of the contraption against his wrist. “There will be a slight pinch. Afterward, the skin may show some irritation and sensitivity for a few days. You can come in and request a special cream if that's the case.”

It stabbed quickly down into his wrist, hooking nerves and muscle into a tight grip. Dean hissed and pulled his hand up to his chest the moment it was free. He could feel the cool metal pressed against his skin and heard a small beep.

“What does it say, Dean?” Lisa asked.

Dean shook his head. “Get yours installed.” Already he was regretting this decision. He loved Lisa, and he wanted this to be it, but he didn't want to think about what it might mean if their TiMERs didn't match. They had agreed to this together. They were either in it until the end or they would fail together.

They switched places, Dean covering his new TiMER with his opposite hand as he sat down in the stool nearby. Lisa settled into the lounge chair, wrist out with a tight-lipped smile. The attendant rehashed a few things that she had told Dean as Lisa nodded. He heard her wince at the touch of TiMER-installer contraption, and then there was a small beep.

Dean swallowed as he moved his gaze from Lisa's wrist up to her shoulder before falling on her eyes. His heart sank at the stillness of the room. Neither of their TiMERs had made a peep over their eye contact.

The attendant helping them with the procedure cleared her throat and whispered, “I'll just give you two a minute. Meet me in the lobby when you're ready.” She quietly shut the door behind her.

Lisa's face was drawn tight as she took in a shuddering breath. Dean reached for her, hunching over the armrest, and drew her into an embrace. Lisa breathed into his neck, “I'm so sorry, Dean.”

Dean just held Lisa for a moment, rubbing her shoulder and placing small kisses in her hair. Finally, he said, “No matter what these things say, it doesn't change how I feel about you, Lisa.”

Lisa pulled back and looked to Dean with sad eyes. There were no tears from either of them, but the anguish he felt was mirrored in her eyes. “I know. Thank you.” She smiled, the smallest of curves to her lips. “I was glad to have met you. And it was nice to find someone that made me believe in love.”

“Lisa, I don't have to go anywhere,” Dean tried to reason, resting his left palm against her jaw. “How much time do you have? This doesn't have to be the end for us.”

She raised her wrist, palm up between them, and together, they finally looked down at one of their TiMERS. “318 days,” she said. “That's... about ten months from now?”

“Ten months. We can do ten months.”

Lisa drew in a slow breath and released it just as slowly. “That depends on the time you have, Dean. I would love for us to keep each other company while we wait.” She slipped her hand over his wrist. “But you should accept that this might be 'good-bye'.”

Dean sighed and lightly shook his head. “That's not what I wanted this to be. I care for you, Lisa, and I want to be with you. Why do these _things_ need to dictate that? Why can't it see how much I want you in my life?”

Lisa gave him a sweet smile, her eyes warm and accepting. “I love you, too, Dean. But somewhere out there, there is someone that will love you more than I possibly could. It pains me to say so right now, but she'll be everything you want and need. That's what these TiMERs are for.”

“They take the guesswork out of love,” Dean said miserably.

Lisa moved her hand and tugged on Dean's arm until he lifted his palm into view.

His TiMER read 005d 07h 54m 42s and was counting down from there.

“Son of a...” Dean couldn't believe his eyes.

Lisa clearly tried to hold back the quiet sob, but Dean heard her and grabbed her to him again.

Dean didn't know what to do with five days. This really meant the end for them.

* * *

For four days, Dean soaked up all the Lisa that he could get. Tried to cram ten months worth of dating into four days – it was no where near that amount, but he did his damnedest. Flowers and chocolates every day, dinner at a fancy restaurant, home-cooked meal, a movie at the theater, picnic at a park during his lunch break, stargazing, hitting up a club, and even a couple's dancing class. When he had the day off, they spent the entire time naked at Lisa's house, lounging on the couch, spooning during a nap in her bed, grossing each other out by smearing mustard and mayonnaise from their butter knives on each other, showering, and, of course, finding physical intimacy at every available opportunity.

Waking up curled up against Lisa's back should have been a sweet moment, and the times that Dean had spent the night at her house, he would kiss her shoulder, roll over, and start the coffee once he had slipped on something more appropriate. Today, the day before Dean would meet his soulmate, he felt cheated and couldn't find it in himself to get out of her bed to get ready for work.

He was two hours late after their bittersweet good-bye, but his family was forgiving of the situation. His dad did make him stay an extra hour to deep-clean the restroom, but it afforded him the lack of energy to simply pass out in his bed when he got home. Dean briefly woke up to the sound of little beeps long enough to register that it was midnight. His TiMER now read zeroes across the board. He groaned and buried his face into his pillow.

* * *

Dean entertained the idea of staying in bed all day, wanting to see what sort of woman would be his destiny if she somehow got into his locked house and found him half-naked under his comfy sheets – maybe a burglar. He could call out of work sick, but everyone knew what today was. His brother, Sam, would probably drive over, and drag his ass out of the house in his excitement for his brother's big day. His dad would probably help just because he didn't raise a lazy slob. Uncle Bobby would call him an 'idjit', and then sic his brother and dad on him.

So, Dean sluggishly got ready for work and left his house. Every time he looked up at someone, caught himself gazing at their face, his heart stuttered in his chest. He was going to meet his soulmate today. Someone that wasn't Lisa. Someone that was supposedly better than Lisa. He was finding that difficult to believe. He had no idea what he was looking for.

If the TiMER was anything to go by, Dean knew he shouldn't be trying to figure out what she looked like. She'd be so awesome that none of that would matter. He selfishly hoped she was good-looking; if she was meant for him, he'd probably find her attractive. _Ugh, why am I even bothering with this?_

Dean was surprised when Bobby put him to work in the garage, half-expecting him to put on lobby duty to greet everyone as they came to the shop. Bobby shrugged and told him, “It's going to happen regardless of what you do today.” The number of potential soulmates he'd have to look in the eyes went down a few numbers for the day at least.

His brother got to needle him for ten minutes about his possible soulmate before Bobby banished the shaggy-haired giant back to the lobby.

He lost himself in menial tasks for a few hours – oil changes, tire rotations, installing new brake pads. Dean smiled when he got in a friend's car, Charlie's, to do an oil change; he topped off a few fluids that she didn't request, and although he'd have to put it down in the paperwork, he'd mention to Sam to give her a discount that took care of the cost.

Dean walked into the lobby with Charlie's papers, rubbing his grease-slicked hand on the rag hanging out of his pocket. He handed off the papers to Sam and looked up to smile at Charlie and the man standing at the counter; Dean figured his car would be the next one he'd work on. He met the most amazing blue eyes he'd ever seen, and sudden recognition made him freeze in his place.

_Holy shit, it's that guy..._

Chimes started to go off and everyone fell silent at the sound. Dean turned his wrist upright and slowly looked down at it in disbelief. _There's no friggin' way!_ His TiMER was blinking and making a merry sound, and Dean started to feel ill. “Son of a bitch...” he whispered.

He chanced a glance back up the man. _Cas,_ his brain finally supplied him. Dean caught Cas's small smirk. _My soulmate is a man?!_ He muttered at Sam as he turned to leave, “I- I- cars. Bye.” And he fled back into the garage.

Dean heard Sam yell, but he was practically jogging over to Charlie's car, finding an excuse to get out of there. He couldn't focus any of his thoughts – blurred memories of his night with Cas, beautiful blue eyes, his soulmate wasn't female, his sexuality, what his father would think-

Sam tackled him, his big arms encircling him and keeping him from getting any further. “Holy cow, Dean! Since when have you- Oh, come on!” His brother was half-dragging him when Dean went limp to make the task more difficult with his dead weight. “Don't be a jerk! Go talk to him!” He grunted with the effort, but managed to get him half-way across the garage back to lobby. Sam unceremoniously dropped Dean onto the floor and squatted down beside him. He was panting, and gave a sigh. “Need to talk about it?”

Dean rubbed his elbow that had smacked painfully on the cement floor and propped himself up against the cabinet behind him. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “This _thing_ is a joke, Sammy.” Dean accusingly held out his right wrist with the TiMER on it.

“Sorry, Dean. You're preaching to the wrong choir,” Sam said, kneeling down next to him. “I've got Jess now. Maybe we would have fallen in love even without the TiMERs, but they weren't wrong about us. Charlie's just met Dorothy, and you've seen them together.” Sam waved his hand towards the end of the garage where Bobby was dusting around a stock of tools and small auto parts. “Jody has been awesome for Bobby. They'd been friends for _years_ before Bobby got his TiMER, and neither one of them had any idea they were both interested. Fate does have a wry sense of humor sometimes, but this isn't a joke.”

Dean drew his knees up to his chest, curling his arms around them, and rested his chin over his arms. He didn't say anything to Sam, not wanting to admit that his brother had made an excellent case. All of them were happy with the soulmate that was revealed to them. Even their friend, Garth, had moved half-way across the country to be with Bess when he literally bumped into her at an airport and their TiMERs started chirping. They didn't live anywhere near each other – just a chance meeting – but they dropped everything to be together.

He tried to think of bad matches thanks to TiMERs, and the only one he could think of was his neighbor, Meg, and her abusive-ass boyfriend, Azazel. Dean had no idea why Azazel had even gotten a TiMER in the first place, but theirs had chimed together, and they fucking hated each other. He had no idea what they actually felt for each other now-a-days, but if the noises coming from the other side of the wall in his bedroom was any indication, at least the hate sex was good.

He had to admit that maybe in some strange fucked up way, they were compatible. Dean tried not to think about it too often.

That was a terrible comparison though. Cas had seemed like a really nice guy. It had been six months since Dean had followed him home, eagerly falling all over himself to get into another man's pants. It still made no sense to him. He had trouble remembering all of the details, but he knew enough that if Cas had been a woman, he would have likely asked for Cas's number and called _her_ later.

For now, he wanted to do something to get his mind off of his sexuality, off of Cas, off of soulmates... If Cas were his soulmate, he would still be around regardless of Dean's response right now. He had as much time as he wanted – _needed_ – to freak out and wonder about it.

“Hey!” Bobby shouted from across the garage. “What're you doing sittin' on the floor? Take your breaks when they're scheduled. Get back to work.” He pointed outside to the car out front. “Taking care of that customer, Sam?”

“Yeah, Bobby! I'll go back in now,” Sam shouted back. He set Dean with a stern gaze. “Hide in here if you need to or whatever. But I have to go back in there, and he's probably going to have questions. What am I supposed to say, Dean?”

Dean quietly said, “Tell him I'm sorry.”

“That's it?”

“Yeah.” Dean dropped his hands and pushed himself up off of the floor. He glanced over to the window with the half-closed blinds looking into the lobby. He could only see the top of Cas's head, so he was probably sitting down. Cas kept looking over at Charlie who was leaning on the counter and talking animatedly. Dean worried what she might be telling him. “I don't know what fate has in store, but if I'm going to get shackled to a dude, it'll be on my own terms, not because some eighty dollar scrap of electronics demands it.”

* * *

 

 


End file.
